provocare
by nooblet1337
Summary: A quick trip to the war-torn Orre leaves Colress and Team Plasma with a little more baggage than they'd like. Oneshot.


Provoke (pr _uh_ - **vohk** )

— _ **verb (used with object),**_ **pro·voked, pro·vok·ing.**

to anger, enrage, exasperate, or vex.

Colress woke up suddenly, blearily coming to consciousness from under the warm blankets. He curled in on himself, clutching his head at the abrupt clamor of steel gears and reverberating mechanisms. Groaning, he looked around in askance for his glasses, but was met with nothing but blurry shapes. He heaved a sigh and leaned back down against the plush pillow.

A configuration came closer, gray and emitting a gentle whirring. He reached out to it and felt his fingers come in contact with something, smooth glass and long pieces of plastic. He smiled slightly and unfolded his glasses, and the world came into focus. The contraption (creature? He wasn't sure if they garnered sentience) that had brought his glasses to him was a Magnemite, a round… thing of steel, with a single large optic that was now turned towards him. It rolled blankly, taking in his features with mechanical efficiency, and he knew that its coding was loading the next return action.

The two magnets attached to the base spun faster, and the screw on top of it delved up and down in doubletime. It flew away smoothly, a rush of air in its wake as it maneuvered the busy mechanisms that took up Colress's workplace. Golden eyes followed its movements, more awake than before but still lazy from sleep.

He slowly rose from bed and took in his surroundings. Everything was just the way he'd left it. A sense of peace nestled itself inside him, similar to a bird cozily landing in its tree, and he sighed at the welcome relief his nap had provided him.

Until his thoughts brought him back to the proverbial skeleton in the closet. Or rather, literal nuclear bomb in the lobby. The suddenness of his recollection stunned him, and he stood reeling for a moment until he managed to pull himself back together.

Yes, this was a problem. A big problem, and while he was a little too prideful to admit it aloud, it was going to be difficult to deal with.

He rose almost reluctantly, and opened a closet door. It held a number of boxes, most of which he knew contained nothing but memories, but he was looking for one in particular. Far in the back, underneath a stack of blueprints held loosely by string, was a small package about the size of a hat box. That was what it had been, until he repurposed it for a place for his old clothes.

A hat box should have been too small to contain a full wardrobe, but this wasn't just any hat box. He pulled out a few piles of shirts, arms reaching down farther than they should have been able to. It made for a nice optical illusion to an outside viewer, but Colress didn't so much as pause. The muffled sound of clothing being moved and he gave an annoyed noise, leaning over to peer inside the box.

Finally, he pulled out a neatly-folded white lab coat, and quickly put it on. The scientist paused for a moment, looking around the cluttered room, before seeming to come to a decision as he opened a desk drawer.

Inside was a small, closed iPad-like object. With practiced motions, he pressed a button on the side and the machine smoothly unfolded, three screens clicking together to come into a tablet about the size of a thin textbook. Another button was clicked, and the screen brightened to become a pale blue loading screen, before requesting a password. He tapped a digital keypad and the computer unlocked. Striding out the door of his scattered bedroom, he frowned to himself at the thought of what would happen today.

* * *

The hallways of the underground base were clean, but someone's aesthetic choices had resulted in them having dark gray paneling on the walls and a rather hideous tile flooring. It made it somewhat difficult to tell one part of the place from another, but Colress knew the layout well enough to find the main entrance.

Standing in the lobby was a group of grunts, circled around a large wooden crate. Angie noticed him approaching and turned to him, a questioning look in her eyes.

"Why do we have an implosion-type bomb in the lobby, of all places? Is this the one you got from that trip to Kanto, or did you somehow sneak this past Ghetsis?"

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose before answering. "I didn't tell anyone to put it here, believe me. Blame someone else if you want, but I asked to have it in the basement."

"A nuclear warhead in the _basement_? God, sometimes I really don't know why I put up with you."

"Oh well." He stepped closer to the box, staring down at it. It was a plain wooden crate, fairly inconspicuous if it weren't for the fact that no one used wooden crates anymore. He gestured for a grunt to open the lid.

Inside was a metal cylinder a couple feet in length and a foot in diameter. It was packaged in straw, and Colress couldn't hold back a cringe at how jostled it looked. It looked to be an older design, probably Teller-Ulam but he wasn't sure. A grunt held out a Geiger counter, and they all backed away a little when it ticked. The rads probably weren't very high, but it was the principle of the thing that mattered.

So, onto the next step… where to keep it? The basement, as Angie said, wasn't very viable. And since it was still giving off radiation, they'd need a more solid storage container. He knew they had some lead lined units on the Frigate, but Ghetsis would surely notice if they tried transporting something this big onto the ship.

Although… the man's mental and physical health was declining at a fairly rapid pace, so it was possible they could manage something. Send a falsified report of N to distract him or something. Still, even the Frigate wasn't very safe long-term. The militants he purloined the bomb off of would notice it was gone soon, and the Frigate was the most obvious place to keep a warhead. They had all their other ones there, of course.

They had to find a place for it, though. The situation was bad, and Colress almost regretted stealing the bomb. Almost.

"So, should we take it apart or somethin'?" Brad asked, interrupting the scientist's brief moment of triumph.

Colress almost gave Brad a look for suggesting such a thing, before a spark of realization came to him. "Oh. Oh! Yes, yes, we should dismantle it. Breaking it down will make it easier to hide."

"Uh… okay. I sorta meant like, using it for somethin', but sure."

"Kyurem's energy is more than sufficient for our needs, Brad," he reminded, gaze trailing over the rivets and weldings.

"They don't really make those things easy to dissect, do they," Angie spoke up, frowning down at the gadget.

"Probably so people like us don't do these sorta things," Brad snickered, nudging another grunt's shoulder.

Colress ignored his words, instead opting to peer closer at the cylinder in hopes of finding some seam to open. Most of it was firmly melted together, of course, but if it was a Teller-Ulam it should have a weak seal on the top to aid in releasing the explosion. No such luck, though, and he mumbled a curse to himself.

The design didn't completely match any sort of bomb he was aware of, but instead it seemed sort of pieced together. It wasn't a surprising realization; in places where weapons like these were hard to come by they were often sold in pieces and mixed together haphazardly. This proved problematic in most cases, as the bombs rarely worked the way they were intended. It was rare that they exploded too soon, and oftentimes they ended up complete duds. This one, though, was crafted together with an accuracy that was hard to come by.

He took brief note of that, but didn't think about it heavily. It was his first mistake.


End file.
